


Yearning for You

by crowbeau



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Bondage, Marking, Partially Clothed Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 06:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowbeau/pseuds/crowbeau
Summary: Shortly after their reunion at Garreg Mach, tensions between Dimitri and Byleth start to run high. Dimitri begins to spiral out of control and Byleth is adamant in staying with him; it's her duty as a professor to take care of her beloved student, regardless of the bloody burdens he may bear.





	Yearning for You

**Author's Note:**

> yall already knew this was coming,,, dima's totally my type,,, traumatised feral eyepatch man with a big heart??? uh yes???  
anyway i sorta took dimitri's "beast" thing and ran with it,,, so fair warning for him being a total rascal with his beloved professor ;-)
> 
> *also here's a warning for a scene where dimitri has a bit of a breakdown; the associated text can get a bit jarring to read-- in terms of italics/bold print/underlining-- so please be careful and take care of yourselves! <3

They had just returned to the Cathedral from their most recent hunt— “slaughter” was more accurate a term—when Dimitri scowled at the professor.

“Why are you still here?”

He wasn’t necessarily angry, simply tired. Maybe curious. Definitely cold. 

Byleth would not be deterred, though. Not when one of her students needed her; not when _Dimitri_ needed her.

“I already told you,” she reminded, “I’m staying with you, Dimitri.”

“Don’t speak that name,” he hissed, refusing to look at her, “the Dimitri you once knew is dead now, Professor.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Dimitri spun on heel, scrutinising Byleth with his good eye. Exhaustion sat heavy beneath it; how much sleep had he lost to the ghosts?

“I am no more than a nameless beast,” Dimitri said, dropping his gaze, “not a prince, nor your student, and certainly never Dimitri.”

“Dimitri-,”

“Stay away from me, Professor,” he warned, “no good will come of you remaining at my side.”

Byleth scoffed. Her patience was wearing thin; this little self-deprecation game had to cease soon.

“I-,”

Dimitri slinked up to her, studying her hungrily with his single eye, his gaze nothing short of predatory.

“Who knows what will become of you if you associate with a beast like myself? I might do something… untoward to you, Professor.”

Byleth watched him, unimpressed and unintimidated. 

It was the watching that Dimitri hated the most. He’d been dismayed by her scornful look at their reunion. 

Byleth continued to stare up at him, unblinkingly.

The fallen prince growled, the sound low and angry, and he tossed his lance aside, shoving the professor back. She choked on a cough as her spine met the wall; had this been his plan all along? Dimitri seized her wrists in his hands, pinning them on either side of her head.

And then he squeezed, just enough to make Byleth click her tongue. Dimitri knew it was her tell; she was pained by that grip, pained by _him._

“_Professor_,” he ground out, “I sense you’re not going to heed my warning. If you insist on staying, I will become tempted by you, as all beasts are. This was once my home. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to defile the memory of this place.”

Dimitri tipped his head back, closing his one eye as he let the image take shape in his mind. Byleth clenched her fists but the fallen prince did not ease his grip on her.

“To desecrate that space and be rid of the old Dimitri forever. It’ll be a joy to sully his beloved professor. I’ll make you cum for me, _screaming_. And even after you lose your pretty voice, I’ll just have you loosen up those plush lips for me, Professor. Depraved, isn’t it?”

Dimitri rolled his head, slowly opening his eye so he could gaze down at his old professor. He was expecting a look of disgust. 

Instead, he got one of desire. Byleth’s cheeks were rosy, her eyes half-lidded as the fallen prince kept her pinned to the wall. Her breaths were uneven and as her tongue darted out to wet her lips, she looked up at Dimitri from beneath her long lashes.

For a moment—just the _shadow_ of a second—unbridled surprise lit up his face, his blue eye wide. But Dimitri shoved the emotion back into the void in his chest as his lip curled.

“_Professor_-,” he said, and his voice was low, the predatory beast sneaking into conversation at long last, “surely you don’t share such sadism.”

“What will it take for you to trust me again, Dimitri?”

“_Again_-?” he echoed, a disbelieving half-smile twisting up his face, “Do you think I _ever_ trusted you, Professor?”

“I do.”

Dimitri barked out a laugh and then released her, stepping away to retrieve his lance. Byleth watched him wordlessly.

“Come on then,” he growled, “don’t keep me waiting.”

The professor stalked to his side, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye.

“Another patrol?” she wondered aloud.

It was too soon after their hunt and too late in the evening.

“Didn’t you hear me, Professor?” Dimitri asked, and his expression was unreadable from where Byleth was thanks to his eyepatch, “I’m going to pleasure myself with you.”

“With-,”

“Don’t misunderstand,” he corrected harshly, “I’m going to use you for my own gratification. As beasts do.”

“Ah.”

Byleth’s short response was cryptic enough to have Dimitri grinding his teeth together in annoyance.

“You’re not going to flee?”

“Is that what you want?” the professor asked, “If you want me to run and give you the thrill of the chase, I will do just that. If you wish to hunt me down in the Forest, knock the wind from me, pin me down, and sink your teeth into my throat, then let’s not waste any more time discussing it.”

Dimitri slowed so he could turn his head far enough to study her with his left eye. Byleth lifted her gaze to his.

“Whatever you want, Dimitri,” she clarified, “be it the chase or stringing me up, I will do whatever it takes to get you to trust me, to put even a _sliver_ of faith in me. As your ally, if nothing else.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Byleth would win out in a contest of silence.

“Why are you doing this?” Dimitri asked finally.

_Because I care about you, _the professor longed to say. But those words, right now, they were meaningless. She had to help the prince back to himself, to remind him to let the light in, then she could tell him. Not now, not yet.

“Do you really want the answer to that question, Dimitri?”

The fallen prince growled.

“No.”

Byleth nodded and swept her hand in the direction of the old dorms. Dimitri studied her quietly, trying to gauge her true motive.

“I might-, no, I _will _put you in pain, Professor,” he warned.

Perhaps if he said the right words in the right order, she would relent.

“You’ve threatened to tie me to your bed, screw me until I cum screaming, and then, if you’re not satisfied after a few rounds, you’ll finish up by fucking my throat.”

Byleth paused, letting the words sink in. Dimitri wouldn’t look at her.

“Did I miss anything?” Byleth wondered aloud, “No, I do believe I remember your words _quite_ clearly, Dimitri. So, are you going to take me like the beast you claim to be?”

The fallen prince spun on Byleth and yanked off his cloak, dropping it to the grass between them as he discarded his lance.

“On your knees,” he ordered gruffly.

The professor blinked.

“_Here_-?” she hissed, more in surprise than anything else.

“_Here.”_

Byleth sank to the ground, shifting her weight awkwardly to accommodate the armour at her left knee; the old wound was acting up and she was certain this positioning was not going to help.

“Brace yourself,” Dimitri said, unbuckling his belt and letting the strip of armour at his hip fall to the grass.

Byleth glanced over her shoulder at him as he sank behind her on the cloak. She bent, throwing her weight onto her palms. The fabric was stiff beneath her fingers; she needed to snatch it and wash it at the earliest convenience.

“_Yes_,” breathed Dimitri, “if you insist on staying with me, Professor, then it is only right that I show you what a beast I’ve become.”

When Byleth said nothing, the fallen prince pushed the fabric of her overcoat to one side. He put a heavy hand to her hip, holding her steady as he rutted slowly against her backside.

The professor gasped on reflex as Dimitri’s half-hard cock pressed against the fabric of her trousers. The fallen prince groaned as Byleth pushed back against him, shifting her hips for some added friction.

“_Pr-Professor-,_”

He clearly had not been anticipating this, if that strained tone was any indication.

“Commit,” Byleth hissed, “commit to this, here and now, Dimitri. I know you, your strength. You could split my seams in a moment and have your way with me. But you’re not.”

The fallen prince said nothing. His grip on her hip tightened but it was the only sign that her words were finally getting through to him.

“Why is that?”

“Don’t question me-,” Dimitri growled, irritated.

“_Commit-!_” Byleth ordered.

Dimitri yanked her weak leg out from under her and she collapsed with a gasp. He took the professor roughly by the middle and flipped her onto her back, parting her legs so he could rut against her from a better angle.

Byleth let out a breathy moan at the movement; despite the layers between them, the needy press of the fallen prince’s cock against her pussy was enough to have her panting.

“_Dimitri_-,”

He took the professor by the backs of her knees and pulled her close, rutting desperately against the seam of her trousers. Dimitri tipped his head back, letting his eye fall shut as he took a moment to savour the rising pleasure.

This was so much _better_ than the callused jerks of his fist around his cock. To have his beloved professor splayed out beneath him, her legs hooked over his hips as he forced more sweet sounds out from between her lips-,

They had to stop. _This_ had to stop. There was so much more to do before-, _before-,_

“Professor,” said Dimitri, ducking from between her legs and getting to a slow stand, “get up. It’s too open here.”

“You’re worried about the bandits?”

Her expression and intonation were impossible to decipher; it was irritating, not knowing what was going on behind that blank stare.

“_Rats_,” Dimitri agreed coldly as he lifted his lance, “I want no interruptions. No one shall get in my way. No one shall stop me from taking what’s mine.”

Byleth pulled herself up, dizzy from the weight of Dimitri’s voice; his aching bloodthirst had made the quick switch to possession and she was having trouble keeping up.

She straightened her overcoat before drawing Dimitri’s discarded armour and cloak into her arms. The professor folded the fabric over itself so it wouldn’t drag.

Perhaps the action was meaningless; the cloak was filthy. But these were the garments that had served Dimitri for the past few years; she didn’t want them in any worse condition.

_I’ll wash you tomorrow, _she promised wordlessly.

When Byleth turned to the fallen prince, Dimitri was already lumbering in the direction of the dorms. He didn’t look back to see if Byleth was following him. For a long moment, she wondered what he would do if she went to the Forest.

Would he chase her?

But she knew the answer. Even if he wanted to claim her now, it was still too early; he would still let her slip away, even if it killed him.

The professor sighed and trailed after him.

***

Dimitri had halted in the middle of his old bedchamber. Byleth swept into the room carefully, letting him privately work through the sudden wave of memories as she folded his cloak and fur over the back of his desk chair. She set down his armoured belt and the sound of metal against wood was enough to shake him from his reverie.

“Professor,” he said.

As Byleth lifted her gaze to his face, she surveyed the room. Dimitri must’ve come in to clean it earlier; perhaps before the ghosts became too demanding. Something about that gave her a sliver of hope.

“Do you want me to help you with your armour?” she asked.

Dimitri looked away.

“No,” he said, and his voice was heavy.

Not with anger, nor annoyance. But with regret.

“Dedue-,” he began and then shut his mouth.

Byleth removed her overcoat and folded it before placing it on the desk along with Dimitri’s belt. After a long moment, the fallen prince began to methodically remove his armour.

The professor followed suit, unlatching her breastplate and setting it on his desk. Dimitri leant his lance against the wall before moving past Byleth to rummage through the desk drawers.

She paced the room and took a seat on the edge of his bed. When it was clear that Dimitri would be a few moments, Byleth chanced a low duck, inhaling the scent that clung to the bedspread.

The past still lingered, draped across the room despite any and all effort to remove it. The professor breathed in what remained, allowing herself a long moment to relish Dimitri’s soft musk. The bed still smelt faintly of sweat and chamomile tea, the minute tinge of jasmine hanging on with fierce determination.

The scent of it was enough to have Byleth thinking back to that night at the Goddess Tower. It was so long ago now. Did Dimitri remember? The things he’d said to her that night…

“Professor,” he said, pulling her back to the present, “take off your boots. There’s no time to waste.”

Wasn’t there, though? Just a bit of time, to set aside for themselves, surely. Dimitri didn’t—_wouldn’t_—see it that way.

Byleth studied the fallen prince for a moment, taking in how much he’d changed during their time apart. He had shot up in height and without a varied diet, he’d become purely muscle and bone. His hardened exterior finally mirrored his vengeful interior. That couldn’t stand; Byleth would have to see what she could do in the greenhouse.

_And in his heart._

The sable fabric that encased Dimitri certainly didn’t do any favours; it paled his ghostly skin and made him appear thinner than he was.

No wonder the Imperial soldiers had thought him a monster in the monastery.

“Dimitri-,” Byleth said, reaching out.

Her fingertips only grazed his chest before he took her hand, halting the movement. It had been so long since he’d been touched in any manner that wasn’t aggressive. And there was no longer any trust; the paranoia and the ghosts had seen to that. To be touched by his beloved professor after all this time-,

“There’s no need for that now,” he said, and his voice was gruff as he tried to staunch the emotion bleeding through.

“Dimitri-,”

He knelt before Byleth and stretched out his hand. He was still wearing his gloves.

“Give me your foot.”

The professor pinked.

“I-, I can do it myself-,”

The fallen prince didn’t seem keen on letting her; Byleth was wasting too much time. Dimitri jerked her forward by her ankle and she hissed in surprise, the movement sending a spike of pain up to her old wound.

To his credit, Dimitri did seem minutely apologetic as he slowly slipped her boot from her foot, followed by the piece of armour that guarded what remained of the old wound at her knee.

“_Professor_-,” he breathed as he pulled off her other boot and traced the curve of her calf with his wide palm.

Dimitri pressed a kiss to her mangled knee and Byleth tensed at the contact.

“Had you returned to me sooner-,” he let the rest of his sentence die, lips pressed against her leg.

And then he opened his mouth and dug his teeth into her thigh, wrinkling the fabric of her hose beneath the hot trail of his tongue.

Byleth sucked in a sharp breath at the motion, setting a hand upon his head for support.

“Dima-,”

“_Don’t_,” Dimitri hissed, releasing her as he growled against her skin, “don’t call me that. Not now. Not _ever_. Do you understand me, Professor?”

Byleth brushed his fringe from his face when he looked up at her, searching for confirmation that she understood.

“Alright,” she said, “if it’s what you want.”

“I _want _to tie you up,” Dimitri ground out, rising slowly to his full height so that he towered over her, “I want to make you feel how I feel. I want you to know how much I _hurt_, Professor. You ought to know what you’re dealing with, now that you’ve chosen to stay.”

Byleth stretched out her arms.

“Whatever you wish,” she reminded, “whatever you need, Dimitri.”

The fallen prince clicked his tongue at the sound of his name, begrudgingly allowing it, even if only to keep Byleth from calling him by his old nickname.

To hear it from her lips as he was now-, it wasn’t right. He wasn’t that person anymore. He was merely a beast, serving the dead and carrying out the everlasting demands of the damned.

Dimitri stepped up to her, setting his hands to the professor’s hips before he slipped one hand down into the waistband of her trousers.

Byleth slowly moved so she could part her legs, encouraging the fallen prince to slip his fingers between them. Dimitri pulled her to his chest with his free hand, tracing the curve of her ass appreciatively.

“You did not fight earlier,” he mused, and his breath was warm against her ear.

He had to bend to whisper to her, ducking to slip his sultry voice against the cartilage.

“Professor,” he continued, “you almost seemed… _aroused_. Do you desire me? Even as I am now?”

The answer was obvious; there was no need for Byleth to confirm. After all, the Blue Lions—and Dimitri especially—may have been her students, but they had been the ones teaching _her_; how to live, how to love.

“That suits me just fine,” the fallen prince murmured, and he sounded genuine in his pleasure, “I’ll not hold back.”

Dimitri yanked the professor’s trousers low and she stepped out of them as she stumbled back towards the bed, the fallen prince bearing down upon her.

As soon as Byleth was pressed against the sheets, Dimitri cocked her legs up, slotting himself low between them. He huffed, his breath hot against the seam of her hose and the professor twitched at the attention. 

Hungry for a more vocal response, Dimitri bent and stuck out his tongue, dragging it slowly across the seam between her legs. Byleth gasped, rolling her head as the fallen prince repeated the motion. In a different situation, it would’ve reminded the professor of the beasts that reverently bathed one another. Now, however, Byleth could only pant as Dimitri moaned against her.

It was a low sound, the sort of wounded keen that she assumed came from the old Dimitri attempting to show some restraint. When Byleth threaded her fingers through the fallen prince’s coarse hair, he lifted his head.

The pleasant movement stopped and the professor realised Dimitri was watching her. She lifted her brows in wordless question. The fallen prince straightened and returned to the desk. Byleth readjusted on his bed, a shiver skirting up her spine as he turned back to her. He was holding a thick coil of rope.

“This was for the dogs that served that wretched _woman_,” he hissed, and his grip around the rope was tight enough to make the leather of his gloves squeak.

“Did you ever-,”

“No,” Dimitri interrupted, and the tension slipped from his shoulders, “there was-, the others were too impatient. Father-, Glenn-, they-, they wanted those dogs murdered. And I-,”

“You had to listen,” Byleth finished quietly.

It was in these fleeting moments, when Dimitri talked about the ghosts and the vicious cruelty he’d shown to outsiders, that she began to slowly understand him; his mystery was unravelling. And it hurt.

“There was no time,” Dimitri agreed, “no time to torture. The ghosts wanted blood, called for death, and I-, I had to give it to them.”

For once, Byleth found herself grateful to the ghosts; at least the Imperial soldiers didn’t have to suffer. Eventually, when Dimitri returned to himself—and Byleth would make sure that he did—he would have to face what he’d done. And if he’d slowly tortured the soldiers to death-,

He’d have to face that too.

“The first time this is used,” he mused quietly to himself, “and it will be on you, my beloved professor.”

Byleth watched him as he sank down on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his own. For a fleeting second, the ghost of the old Dimitri passed over his face and he traced his thumb across the slight bumps of her knuckle.

“Dimitri-,” she murmured as he lifted her hand above her head, setting her wrist against the spindles of the headboard, “my blouse-,”

“_Leave it_,” he all but growled, “I won’t be kept from this any longer; beasts do not deny themselves pleasure when it is due. They mate when they must. This is the same.”

The professor had no response to that; every time she thought she was seeing the old Dimitri again, he’d double-down on his effort to conceal it.

It was difficult to keep track of and Byleth gasped as Dimitri yanked on the rope and it dug into her skin.

“_Tighter-,_” she hissed.

“No,” said Dimitri, firm, “you’ll thank me for the room when I’m through with you, Professor.”

Byleth didn’t look at him as he tied her other wrist up. But then, with that done and the professor still half-clothed-,

“What now-,”

The rest of her sentence died on her tongue as Dimitri straddled her, ducking down to lick the exposed skin across her breastbone. 

_Oh, Goddess, _she thought, arching as the fallen prince laid more sloppy kisses across the stretch of pale skin, _I’m still wearing my blouse, but he’s-, but he’s-!_

“_Dimitri_-,”

He nudged a knee between her legs and the professor gasped at the sudden friction, pulling her hips back. When Dimitri shifted again, slowly, Byleth closed her thighs around his, eager for more.

Before she could say anything else, Dimitri pulled back, panting. His gaze was hazy, single eye glazed over with desire.

“Professor-,” he breathed, and the sound of his voice was haggard between them, “I want you.”

“I know,” Byleth whispered, “you have me.”

The fallen prince ducked, averting his gaze.

“You’ll _leave_,” Dimitri murmured against her skin, refusing to look into her face, “like all the others. The Goddess will take you from me. But just for tonight, you are completely and utterly _mine_.”

The professor longed to be free of her bonds so she could push Dimitri’s hair from his face and caress his cheek, to reassure him that she would stay by his side until the bitter end. Had he not promised the same to her, all those years ago?

“There is no reason to deny myself,” he reminded, taking the edge of Byleth’s blouse and hoisting it over her head, shoving the fabric up to where her wrists were bound to the headboard.

The professor pinked as Dimitri slowly leant back and drank in the sight of her, bare-chested beneath him. He lifted a hand and bit the tip of his glove, pulling it from his skin with his teeth. He tossed it aside before cupping one of Byleth’s heavy breasts.

“Look at you, Professor,” he breathed, tracing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, “your body is so eager. Do you truly wish to sleep with a beast?”

“I wish to sleep with _you_,” she said.

Dimitri squeezed at her soft skin thoughtfully.

“Beasts mate,” he mused, “and breed. And suckle from one another.”

Byleth blinked; where was this-,

The fallen prince ducked down again, opening his mouth so he could latch onto her breast, sucking at the tender skin.

“Dima_-, ah-, _not-, _ngh_, not there-, I can’t-, I’m not-!”

She couldn’t-, even if she wanted to, her body wasn’t in a place to produce any sort of milk. And Dimitri should’ve known that.

But the fallen prince merely hummed against her skin, sending pleasant stimuli through her before he dug his teeth into her breast, as though enough attention would yield what he wanted.

“Di_mitri-,_”

The fallen prince sucked at her skin for a while longer, tracing slow circles around her nipple with his tongue.

“_I can’t take this_-,” Byleth rasped, arching beneath him, desperate to fit more of herself into the warm space of his mouth.

When Dimitri finally withdrew, he licked his lips slowly, parting the line of spit that connected him to the professor’s chest.

“Professor,” he murmured, lifting his gaze slowly to her face, “you’d give it to me, wouldn’t you? You’d mate with this beast, breed for me, and feed me from your breast.”

Byleth’s eyelids fluttered at the mention and she was momentarily speechless.

“I-,” she choked out, “if I were-, if I could-, I-, I wouldn’t deny you, Dimitri.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him and the fallen prince hummed, pleased, before turning his attention to her other breast. 

And though she knew what to expect, Byleth still gasped at the feel of Dimitri’s tongue across her skin. He explored her gingerly, eager to know all parts of her without reservation. 

As the professor rutted against his knee, she felt the undeniable brush of his cock against her thigh. Of course Dimitri was getting aroused; anyone in either of their positions would be.

Which meant-,

“Professor-,” the fallen prince rasped against her skin, “beasts are driven by lust, by _greed_. That is part of what makes them beasts; they are ruled by appetite and desire, just like me.”

He paused.

“I want you.”

Perhaps this was what he’d been trying to say earlier, albeit communicating such in quite a different way; voicing one’s inner desire while simultaneously offering up a threat was a… unique way of going about it.

But Dimitri was being more vocal about what he wanted, and want—that was an emotion Byleth could work with.

“I want to claim you,” he murmured, “I _will _claim you.”

As if to prove his point, the fallen prince covered the professor’s lips with his own, closing his eye as he wasted no time exploring her mouth. His tongue met hers and Byleth tasted the slight tinge of sweat—likely her own—but it only drove to remind her what they were doing together. After all this time…

And though Dimitri himself could not taste, he didn’t seem keen on giving Byleth a moment’s respite. By the time he withdrew and she sucked in a ragged breath, the fallen prince was already moving to make a mark at her exposed throat.

The professor tipped her head to the side, eyes fluttering closed as Dimitri dug his blunt teeth into her pale flesh. He marked her, long and hard, taking his time until she hissed beneath him. Seeming something akin to apologetic, the fallen prince sucked at her skin, lolling his tongue over the bruises he’d left behind.

Byleth was quiet as Dimitri leant back, taking in the sight of her beneath him. The professor ached to know what he was thinking.

Dimitri gazed down at Byleth, the way her cheeks were reddened with embarrassment, and the juxtaposition of the marks she bore so proudly at her throat.

“Mine,” the fallen prince breathed, more as an afterthought than anything else.

Byleth closed her eyes and sucked in a shallow breath.

“You tease me too much, Dimitri,” she murmured, lifting her gaze to his face.

In the shadows, it was impossible to read his expression. Byleth wondered again what was going on inside his head. She was relieved, even if only minutely, that he seemed to have dismissed the ghosts in favour of a baser pleasure; that was fine—the ghosts ought to give them some privacy anyway.

“It-, this slowness does not come easily to me,” Dimitri confessed quietly, “but for the sake of the care I once bore for you, my beloved professor, I have tried to take my time with you.”

Byleth blinked. He was-, this was what restraint looked like on him? That-,

“I want to enjoy you for all you’re worth, Professor,” he elaborated, “so I must take care not to ruin you on our first night together.”

“Ruin-,” Byleth echoed softly.

_ <strike>RuInRUInruINRUiNRuinLaNceOFRuinlAnCeOfrUINRelICreLicREliCrElIcRelICmOnsTERMoNsTeRmONsTermOnsTErCreSTcResTCReStCrEstMiKLanMIklANmikLaNSyl</strike> _ _vain._

_Sylvain._

He had been Dimitri’s ally, once, hadn’t he? But had he, really? He hadn’t been crushed by the Tragedy, not in the way that Felix and Ingrid were. Not in the way that Dimitri was.

_Syl<strike>vain</strike>. <strike>SlYVaiNMiKLanSyLVaInaNdmIKlaNsIBLiNgSsibLIngssIbLingsLaNcEAnDMeTalanDBloODaNDSiBLInGsaNDEdelg</strike>ard._

_Edelgard._

** _Edelgard._ **

** _ EDELGARD. _ **

** _ _ **

“That _woman_-,” Dimitri growled, and his expression twisted up with roiling rage.

Byleth watched him carefully. It hurt. It hurt to see him ache with sorrow and grief and anger. The professor longed to embrace him, to hold him close and whisper into his hair, to sing soft lullabies until he fell into a slumber, until he slipped into a dream where Byleth could keep him from all harm.

“_Dimitri_,” she said, and he jerked at the stern lilt in her tone, “look at me.”

He twitched. 

“Not the ghosts,” Byleth hissed, empathetic, “_me. _Only me. Only me, just for this moment.”

“Professor-,”

When Dimitri looked into her face, there was an unending sadness pooling in his eye. Such fragility, beneath all that hatred. Such terrible loneliness. Such unfair isolation.

It had to stop.

“I’m here.”

“You’ll _leave_-!” Dimitri seethed, but his anger simmered down into pensiveness and he began to withdraw-, but Byleth couldn’t let him escape.

He couldn’t run, not now. He couldn’t run now that Byleth was here; she wouldn’t let him.

“Maybe so,” the professor allowed, “but for now, you have me. Don’t you, Dimitri?”

He would have her until the bitter end. But if he refused to see that, Byleth would settle for a promise each morning.

“Professor-,”

“Make this mean something,” she said softly, “you have me for tonight, make it _matter_.”

Dimitri was quiet for a long moment as he considered her words. Byleth would always win in a game of silence.

“What-, how do I-,”

“Kiss me,” the professor murmured, “like before. Perhaps I am more beast than you—I desire you all for myself, Dimitri. No one else may have you now. Just for tonight, you will be mine as I am yours. Now, do as I say.”

The fallen prince blinked owlishly, as though he couldn’t comprehend the words Byleth had spoken.

“We may share this bed or make love or fuck or mate or breed or _whatever_ it is that beasts do. Just for tonight, Dimitri. You and I, we’re not ourselves.”

“I cannot wash away the blood that stains these hands, Professor.”

“No one can.”

And Byleth wasn’t just talking about the blood on _Dimitri’s_ hands.

The fallen prince regarded the professor wordlessly. She was patient, corralling him like a skittish pet. And in some strange way, that was not so unlike reality.

“Just for tonight,” he said finally, “you’ll stay by my side, the mate of this beast.”

“Yours,” Byleth agreed.

Dimitri lowered himself and inhaled her soft scent. And then he crooked his neck and kissed her with a sorry sort of desperation.

Byleth welcomed him.

***

At some point, while Dimitri had been keeping Byleth’s mouth busy with his own, he’d managed to tug her hose down to her knees. She only realised when he drew back, kissing his way further down her throat.

Byleth gasped as he kissed the sensitive strip of skin between her breasts. Dimitri was methodical as he laid his mouth across the expanse of her body. When it became clear, however, where he was headed, the professor squirmed.

“_Dimitri_-,”

“Hush now, Professor,” he breathed against her mangled knee, “there’s no need to fight me.”

“Dimitri, you don’t have to-, _don’t_-,”

“I’ll know you,” the fallen prince murmured, tracing the shape of her calf as he spread Byleth’s legs to accommodate his broad shape, “I’ll not be denied any part of you tonight. Beasts do not restrain themselves.”

Even if he was saying that, his earlier caution was proof that some part of him, at least, disagreed; if only Byleth could reach that part of him…

_No, I can. I will. I’ll bring Dimitri back._

When the fallen prince resettled between Byleth’s thighs, he thumbed absently at the fabric of her panties.

“White…” Dimitri murmured with a soft exhale.

He let his eye fall closed and rested his cheek against Byleth’s thigh. They were both quiet for a long moment.

“According to the teachings of Seiros-,” he said softly, “that would be a symbol of purity, Professor.”

Dimitri paused, running his thumb across the fraying waistband of Byleth’s panties.

“But in Faerghus, white has always symbolised loneliness.”

The professor wasn’t sure how to respond; what was he getting at?

Dimitri opened his eye slowly, his long lashes kissing the edge of his cheekbone as he lifted his head.

“Are you lonely too, Professor?”

When Byleth said nothing, the fallen prince scoffed quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“Let’s be lonely together.”

At the sound of Byleth’s voice, Dimitri’s head shot up so fast something in his neck popped.

“Professor-,”

“I said I’m yours,” Byleth reminded, “and I meant it.”

Dimitri regarded her from his place between her thighs and the angle made his face look gaunt, uncomfortably pale in the glow of the moonlight.

“Dimitri-,”

He dropped his gaze and removed his other glove, tossing it aside as he pulled down the professor’s panties.

Byleth instinctively made to close her legs but Dimitri pried them apart, holding the professor open before him. He studied her quietly but offered no comment; Byleth was unbothered by his non-reaction.

Dimitri pulled her ankles to his shoulder so he could remove her panties and toss them into the pile of the professor’s garments.

Byleth closed her eyes as the fallen prince curled up between her legs. The bed creaked in protest but Dimitri didn’t seem to hear it. He nosed his way against Byleth’s entrance, taking in the slight scent of her before he stuck out his tongue and lapped at her.

The professor jerked at the attention, the heat of Dimitri’s tongue between her legs was _so_-,

The fallen prince let out a wounded sound, as though whatever pleasure he had taken from the motion had somehow hurt him.

“Professor_-,_” he rasped against her, “_professor-,_”

Byleth gasped as Dimitri crooked his neck, taking another slow taste of her beneath him. He tongued at her clit, tracing careful circles around it before closing his lips over the nub and sucking lightly.

The professor arched, straining against the rope at her wrists as Dimitri returned to exploring her leaking pussy with his tongue. The back and forth motion of his tongue—the heat and the _wet_—was enough to have Byleth’s legs trembling with anticipation.

Her orgasm coiled up tightly in her stomach and the professor jerked up one of her hips in an attempt to have Dimitri’s tongue press deeper into her.

When the fallen prince drew back for a breath, his eye was glazed over with desire and he squeezed the meat of Byleth’s thighs, his blunt fingernails digging into her soft skin. When he released his grip on her, he left behind an arc of half-moon marks; something about that made Byleth feel good.

“_Professor-,_” Dimitri gasped, and she shivered as she felt him hump desperately against her calf, “_Professor-,_”

Byleth sucked in a shallow breath when he eased back to rest against her leg, the sweep of his coarse hair against her exposed skin raising gooseflesh. Dimitri ducked down and returned to opening the professor up with his tongue.

Her heady scent had him reeling and the fallen prince took pleasure in the sweet nothingness that clouded his mind; he had not felt so relaxed in-,

Well, there was no reason to try to remember now. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was this pleasant weightlessness and the need to bring his beloved professor to completion. For him to pleasure her so fully, and to have her spill herself upon his tongue, aroused and then overwhelmed by his actions, by _him_-,

“_Professor-,_” he gasped again, and his breath was a puff of sweet heat against Byleth’s entrance.

She was panting, delirious from his ministrations. It only spurred Dimitri on and he returned to his place between her legs, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the marks he’d left upon her thighs.

Byleth let out a strangled moan and then a whimper and the fact that she was being more vocal had Dimitri feeling something that would later be identified as pride.

“_Dima_-,” she choked out, and the old tender nickname had Dimitri moving to suck at her clit as punishment, “Dima_-, cumming_-,”

And then Byleth was awash in ecstasy, her pussy spasming against the fallen prince’s lips as he greedily lapped up the proof of her pleasure. Byleth threw her head back hard enough to make the headboard creak dangerously and she keened, the sound low and a little less than human.

As she sank back against the mattress, boneless from her orgasm, Dimitri took his time cleaning her up. It would be inexcusable to let any part of the professor’s release go to waste.

Byleth let out a few puffs of breath, her legs shaking uncontrollably as Dimitri mouthed at her entrance.

“Too much-,” she gasped out, seeming to have finally regained a part of herself, “_Dimitri_-,”

For a strange second, she thought she would cum again just from the overstimulation of it all. But Dimitri seemed satisfied with his work and drew back slowly before sitting up.

The fallen prince regarded Byleth quietly as he licked his lips.

“Dimitri-, untie me,” the professor murmured.

Dimitri hummed thoughtfully, but his expression was impossible to read.

“Perhaps not,” he mused finally, and that made worry twist in Byleth’s stomach.

She blinked. It was the only evidence that she was uncomfortable with his words.

“What if I leave you here, Professor? Lock you away with the rest of my wretched past?”

He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, curling up and siphoning Byleth’s body heat.

“I would come and visit, of course,” he said, “to keep you company. To keep you from becoming like me.”

The fallen prince lifted his head slowly, watching Byleth for any reaction. Her head lolled to the side and she closed her eyes, aching to hold Dimitri; how lonely he was even now, at her side.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

“Dimitri,” the professor said softly, “if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

She very well could and they both knew that. She’d taken her time studying with Hanneman and Manuela before the fall of Garreg Mach; her magic was strong enough to snap the rope.

Dimitri couldn’t keep her locked away even if he wanted to. 

Byleth let an incantation slip from her lips and the rope uncoiled uselessly, dropping onto the mattress beside her.

She lowered her hands slowly.

“But-,” Byleth murmured, “I’d much prefer to stay by your side. Like this.”

The professor put a hand to the back of Dimitri’s head and she held him close, breathing in the faint scent of him. He smelt of crushed herbs—likely the result of an attempt to rid himself of the reek of Imperial blood.

Dimitri stiffened at the attention, still wholly unused to a touch that wasn’t full of fear, of _hatred_.

Byleth’s other hand slipped down his spine, fingers trailing over the Crest of Blaiddyd, the mark of Dimitri’s birthright—regardless of what he said.

“Stay with me,” she breathed into his coarse hair, “there’s enough room here for the both of us.”

Dimitri said nothing. Byleth trailed her fingers through his hair with a yawn.

“Get some rest,” the professor said, and her stern tone had returned.

It was an odd juxtaposition to the way her fingernails traced meaningless runes across Dimitri’s scalp. He groaned at the attention, wordlessly pressing closer for more.

Byleth indulged him, eager to have Dimitri relax so he could slip into a soft slumber.

“I’ll stay with you,” she promised, “until the bitter end.”

***

In the dead of night, Byleth woke slowly to the sensation of Dimitri’s mouth at her throat. He’d shed his layers at some point and pulled his heavy cloak over them in place of a blanket. 

Dimitri ran his tongue back and forth across her skin in a motion that could only be described as reverent. 

“_Professor_-,” he murmured, and Byleth, still very much half-asleep, tipped her head to the side, welcoming his attention.

Dimitri shifted slowly against her, slotting their bodies together cautiously; Byleth felt the undeniable brush of his weeping cock against her pelvis.

“_Professor-,_” Dimitri said again, his breath feverish against her skin, “it seems your presence has weakened my resolve. And now, I find that I can scarcely deny the desires of this beast within me. I cannot help but wish to claim you-,”

Byleth closed her eyes, wondering if she would fall back asleep like this, curled up on a cloud of pleasure; maybe she could pull Dimitri with her into a sweet dream.

Dimitri slipped a hand up Byleth’s back, his callused palm skirting up the bend of her spine. She shivered at the attention; the spine-, always the _spine_-,

“To have you here,” he whispered, “in this very bed-, ah, but you’re five years too late, Professor. The boy who loved you has died now, devoured by this beast.”

He jerked his hips and Byleth felt electricity twist in her belly at the feel of Dimitri rutting against her bare skin.

“Would you let me devour you too?”

His voice was so husky and he was too close and it was much too hot and the _feel_ of him-,

The fallen prince pulled Byleth atop him easily and he held her steady, wide hands splayed across her thighs. And then he was shifting beneath her, his cock pressed against his stomach as he rutted against her.

The professor draped her arms across him, carefully searching for purchase as she focused on Dimitri’s heavy pants against the cartilage of her ear.

“Professor-,” he murmured again, and his voice was strained, “_Professor-,_”

The ridges of his cock slotted up against Byleth’s clit and the sensation was enough to send pulses of flaming nonsense skittering through her bloodstream.

She yearned, suddenly, to sit up and hump him, to disregard all sense of modesty, and to simply take pleasure from him as he did from her.

The fallen prince’s pace began to falter as his orgasm started to unravel in his gut.

“_Professor_-,” Dimitri choked out, and then paused, lifting a hand to push Byleth’s fringe from where it was plastered against her forehead.

The movement was uncharacteristically careful, soft. Even in her current state, Byleth was aware that it was quite unlike Dimitri to touch her with such gentleness.

“_No_-,” he breathed, and his voice was laced with something bordering dangerously on fondness, “just _once_, could I-, could I call you-,”

He was gasping, the noise so achingly wounded against the professor’s ear. She wondered if she would cum simply from the sound of him.

“_Byleth-,_” Dimitri whispered, and his cock twitched against the professor’s entrance.

He bit into Byleth’s shoulder on reflex to stop the sound that had risen in his throat. The spike of pain shot through the professor and she lifted a clumsy hand to the back of Dimitri’s head, holding him as he rode out his orgasm beneath her.

Once he had regained his senses, the fallen prince released her, trembling as he carefully manoeuvred Byleth back down beside him. The sun was beginning to rise.

After a long moment, Dimitri slipped down between them and to the professor’s disbelief, he began to slowly clean up his mess. The motions were methodical, they weren’t meant to be teasing. But as Dimitri’s tongue carefully circled Byleth’s clit, she felt all the previous tension steadily resume its build at her core.

“I should leave you like this,” the fallen prince murmured against the sharp line of her hip, “covered in my seed. You’re mine, after all. But-, there is no one here to witness you as you are, Professor. There is no one here to see you as the mate to this beast.”

Dimitri went quiet again as he returned to lapping up what remained of his orgasm. Byleth’s leg twitched as the fallen prince’s tongue dragged back down towards her pussy. Just a bit _more_-,

“In typical beastly fashion, I yearn for someone to appear, to know that you belong beside me and that I’ve claimed you all for myself. Ah, Professor, it seems I’ve become quite greedy now that you’re by my side once again…”

No, his voice-,

“Perhaps you should be punished for making me feel this way,” Dimitri mused quietly.

Byleth let out a low moan as the fallen prince laved his tongue into her leaking pussy. She realised, somewhat belatedly, that this must be his punishment.

And punishment it was, as she orgasmed against his lips once again. And Dimitri—damn Dimitri—just kept lapping at her.

There was more mess to clean and Byleth’s eyes fluttered open as she found herself fully awake, electrified. Dimitri lifted his gaze slowly, studying her from beneath the cover of his long lashes as he tongued at her clit slowly.

“D-, Dimitri, I-,”

“Professor-,” he murmured, withdrawing finally.

A slow, dark smile crept across his face and Byleth shivered as he eyed her in the silence.

“I find that I’m getting rather used to you spilling yourself for me, Professor,” he mused, “shall we squeeze a bit more pleasure out of you?”

Byleth blinked, bleary-eyed.

“Dima-,”

“Ah, Professor,” he warned, “watch that tongue of yours, now. If you refer to this beast with such a tender title, you may quickly find that this pleasure I’m pulling from you will not continue to feel all that pleasing.”

The professor pushed herself up onto her elbows and watched him somewhat impassively.

“You aren’t going to frighten me off with those threats, you know, Dimitri. If you want me until I cum dry, then so be it.”

“You are a fool-!” he snarled.

Byleth closed her eyes and for a moment, her smile was quite sad.

“Yeah,” she murmured, “I know.”

That quiet response was enough to have the tension slipping from Dimitri’s shoulders as he turned the comment over in his mind; he was clearly not expecting such a lack of resistance.

Byleth rolled over.

“Sleep.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“Lay down.”

Dimitri scoffed again, “I won’t-,”

“Hold me.”

The fallen prince’s gaze slipped from the bed and he contemplated this. It did not take long for him to submit to Byleth’s request and he carefully slotted himself in behind her. After a long moment, the professor rolled over and faced him.

Dimitri tensed as Byleth slung her arm over him, her fingertips ghosting over the scars that littered up and down his ribcage.

“You’re skin and bones,” she muttered to herself, “but…”

There was the lovely sound of his heartbeat. It was the resounding shout of life within him.

Dimitri’s breath was uneven as he slowly forced himself to relax beneath the professor’s careful touches. When it became clear that no harsh blow was coming, he let his eye fall shut.

In the silence, Dimitri slowly pulled Byleth to his chest and held her loosely against him, still fearing he’d crush her. She seemed content regardless.

It was only then, after Dimitri had spent himself between their bodies and now held his beloved professor in his arms, that he finally began to relax. His bones creaked as the tension slipped from his hulking form, the release unpractised after years and years of aggressive determination.

As Byleth lay with him, listening to Dimitri’s heartbeat, his breath eventually began to even out and he finally drifted off to sleep.

***

The following morning, Byleth disentangled herself from Dimitri and carefully manoeuvred his cloak from his grasp.

“I swore to clean this,” she muttered, ducking to gather up the mix of her garments and his, before making her way into the hallway.

The campus was quiet, overgrown and forgotten by time and civilisation, save for the occasional leap of a startled deer.

Byleth stifled a yawn and wasted no time slipping into the washer room to soak their clothes.

With that done, the professor straightened and hurried to her old dormitory, relieved when she found one of her uniforms. It was the same sort that the students wore. Seteth had provided it, claiming that she ought to have the option of dressing more like her House if it suited her. Byleth didn’t particularly care about her attire but she preferred to be clothed in something while she hung the rest of her garments out to dry.

She went next to the greenhouse, looking to salvage whatever herbs she could find to ease the reek of blood and sweat. It was good, to do old work. Somehow, it reminded her of the time she’d spent with her father. 

With a bit of harvest in the basket at her hip, Byleth returned to the washer room. Knowing that Dimitri would soon be seeking his thick mantel, the professor summoned up a spell and blew the dampness from it, leaving the fur somewhat fluffed.

It would resettle in time, she was certain, but the idea of Dimitri wearing it as it was now-,

“Well, he’d look quite like an angry tomcat, I imagine,” she said to herself, amused.

Once Byleth had pinned the rest of their clothes up, she drew Dimitri’s cloak around herself and settled down in the field with the harvest basket. Though she wasn’t particularly keen on simply sitting and waiting, it was best to save her energy for the rest of the day.

The greenhouse would need some extra attention soon and so would the fish pond; Byleth hoped that the bullheads hadn’t taken over the rest of the water’s populace during her absence.

“We should tidy up too-,” she mused.

Dimitri’s mantel was heavy across her back, the weight of the fur pleasantly mimicking an embrace from its owner. Byleth closed her eyes.

***

When Byleth started awake, she found Dimitri’s broad form pitched up next to her, his head hanging askew against her shoulder. Having found his regular garments missing, he’d donned an older pair of Alois’s; there was a wide _A_ embroidered in silver thread across the right breast. 

Despite herself, the professor smiled a bit, relieved to see him sleeping.

Perhaps the ghosts were not too cruel in dreams.

It was nice to know that he’d sought her out and when he’d found her, that he’d let her continue to slumber. It was the little things that pointed towards his progress. Dimitri may have lashed out in the beginning—and still did, during episodes—but he’d permitted Byleth to call him by his name.

He’d re-entered his own bedchamber, possibly for the first time in years. He’d taken great care with Byleth, despite threatening to do otherwise.

And, of course, he’d slept. It was what he did for himself that pleased the professor the most. He had been neglecting his own needs for so long, permitting himself to waste away, to become his own shell, merely a shadow of his former self. To know that he had engaged in a bit of compassion for the self, even something as simple as letting his body rest, that was more than anything Byleth could have done for him.

And she was glad.

“Wait here,” the professor murmured, slipping away from Dimitri and kneeling to place his mantel over him, “I’ll be back, just need to fold things up. Sleep well. Dima.”

She smoothed her skirt, feeling uncertain in the Academy’s uniform; she hadn’t worn it much, save for an intentionally teasing duel with Sylvain and a makeup test with Annette.

To wear it now just made Byleth yearn for simpler times.

The professor considered taking a trip up to the Captain’s Quarters as she folded up Dimitri’s worn garments. The knee needed to be patched in his leggings and Byleth was relieved to find a pincushion stowed in the emergency cabinet beneath the wide sink.

It didn’t take long and Byleth was quick to pat the fabric, easing the new seams with a sigh. This too, reminded her of the time before she’d come to Garreg Mach.

There was not much time to ponder it, however, as Dimitri’s weight settled across Byleth’s back. She flinched at the attention but went nearly boneless when Dimitri’s hands came around her middle.

He wasted no time putting a palm to her neck, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of her uniform blouse. Byleth’s breath caught in her throat as Dimitri’s other hand slipped beneath her skirt.

“Dimitri-,”

“_Professor-,_” he growled against her exposed neck, his lips brushing against her spine, “I was not expecting to see you dressed in such a way.”

“Is there something wrong with-, how I’m dressed?”

Byleth didn’t like how strained her voice sounded. But Dimitri’s hand beneath her skirt slipped between her legs and he rubbed his fingers against the fabric of her panties.

“I’d nearly forgotten it,” Dimitri said by way of explanation, “and now-, to see you this way-,”

Byleth crooked her neck to one side, eager for him to continue; it would be easier to help him in the long run if he would just-, if he could just use his voice-,

But Dimitri was done talking, instead laying desperate kisses against the professor’s exposed throat. Byleth gasped at the attention, momentarily blinded from the sensation.

It was the dig of Dimitri’s teeth against her skin that brought her back and she instinctively bent at the sink, pressing herself back against the fallen prince.

Dimitri seemed pleased by her response, grinding heatedly against her ass. Byleth let out a low moan as he mouthed at her neck, sucking appreciatively at her skin as she rutted against his fingers.

“You seem so eager, Professor,” the fallen prince murmured, “do you truly wish to be claimed by this beast?”

Byleth swatted his hand from beneath her skirt so she could turn to face him. He towered over her and his expression was unreadable as she stared up into his face.

“Take me,” she said, and her voice was scarcely more than a whisper, “truly. Properly.”

“You ask too much of me,” Dimitri answered coldly.

Byleth frowned at him, disapproving.

“I know your limits,” she snapped back, “and you should know better than to fuck me on your tongue.”

At the mention, surprise lit up in Dimitri’s eye and he was quiet, unsure how to respond.

“You could’ve taken me properly in bed,” Byleth said, “and then again in the dead of night. Instead of that embarrassing vanilla spill between us, you could’ve been putting that to good use and warming me up.”

Dimitri blinked. And then he blinked again. 

Byleth wondered, minutely, if she’d gone too far.

_Did I… break him…?_

“_Professor-,_” he ground out.

And Byleth determined that no, she had not broken him. But he was reverting; any new emotion that he didn’t like—Dimitri turned immediately back to anger.

Byleth was getting tired of it quite quickly.

“Such cowardice is unlike you,” she reminded stonily.

Dimitri’s temper flared and he stepped away from her, blind with rage.

“Hush, Professor-!” he seethed, clutching his head, “It was now cowardly-, I denied myself only to-,”

“_Enough!_” Byleth hissed, “Don’t deny yourself! You keep doing that and it’s _killing_ you!”

“My actions were not cowardly-,” Dimitri rasped, “I did what I did to keep you from carrying the spawn of a _beast_-!”

The professor trembled with anger and then spun and slammed her fist into the wall next to her. Her bones cracked and Dimitri stared at her, his single eye going wide; how long had it been since he’d last seen her anger plastered so plainly across her face-?

Byleth dropped her emotionless gaze to her mangled hand and lifted the other, wordlessly blanketing her bloodied knuckles with a healing spell. 

“Professor-,” the fallen prince began, “I cannot hide from my Crest. To fill you with a royal bastard when I am nothing more than a beast, is-,”

“I’m not talking about the _sex_!!” Byleth exploded, and she marched up to him, taking fistfuls of his mantel in her hands, “There are herbs and spells and _lifetimes_ of knowledge to keep away unwanted pregnancies, Dimitri.”

The fallen prince opened his mouth. And then he closed it.

“I’m talking about-, _you-_,” said Byleth, and she couldn’t look into his face.

The grips she had on Dimitri’s mantel loosened and she put her forehead to his chest with a slow inhale.

“Stop hiding. I hate it when you do that. I thought I hated that cruelty-, how you killed those Imperial soldiers, drove out those bandits-,”

“_Rats-,_” Dimitri corrected.

“Rats-,” Byleth amended, “but now I see that perhaps that was you making an effort. You being _alive_. Clearing out the villages, defending Garreg Mach-, it was all-,”

“Stop it.”

“You’re-, the protector-,”

“_Stop it!_” Dimitri seethed, taking Byleth roughly by the shoulders, “That’s-! It isn’t true. I-, I-,”

Oh, _now_ they were getting somewhere.

“For the sake of the love I once had for you,” said the fallen prince, and he gazed down into Byleth’s face with such a wounded expression, “I restrained myself and did all in my power to keep the beast from harming you.”

“You scarcely touched me,” Byleth said.

Dimitri squeezed the fabric at the shoulders of her blouse.

“I-, mustn’t break you. Not now, not yet, perhaps not _ever_. If I do, I will be alone with the ghosts again. And death is-, lonely, Professor.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “and yet, you are not dead.”

Dimitri blinked. And then he released her and took a step back. Byleth regarded him quietly.

“You have washed my garments,” he acknowledged, “I-, that is good.”

Byleth nodded. They were getting closer to talking things through. Slowly. But-, but this was progress. And the professor could work with that.

“Professor,” Dimitri said after a moment.

Byleth handed him his stack of clothes before looking into his face.

“I-, am not averse to bedding you properly.”

“One would hope so,” she said tartly.

Dimitri bristled minutely at her tone. But then he simply sighed and bowed his head. He looked tired.

Byleth dropped her set of clothes atop his and paced up to him, pulling him low by his mantel so she could kiss him chastely upon the lips.

Dimitri’s eye went wide at the contact and he huffed against the professor’s mouth, moaning with want. When Byleth withdrew without deepening the kiss, the fallen prince hummed, disappointed.

“Come,” she said, “let’s get properly dressed now. You look ragged in Alois’s blouse.”

“It is the only one that fits me now.”

Byleth snorted, “That’s your own damn fault for shooting up like bamboo.”

She bent and retrieved the harvest basket before turning back towards Dimitri’s dorm.

“Wait, Byleth-,”

The professor stopped short and spun, eyes wide. It was the first time that Dimitri had called her by name, save for last night. Or had that all been a dream-? It was quite hazy now…

“_Professor_-,” he amended quickly, and a tinge of blush coloured his cheeks, “I-,”

Byleth tipped her head to one side, curious.

“Hm? I swear, I think I almost saw the old Dimitri there for a moment-,” she mused to herself.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Dimitri held the garments to his chest with one hand and put the other to the back of Byleth’s neck, his fingers curling in her light hair.

She clicked her tongue—her tell signalling pain—when the fallen prince pulled at her hair, holding her steady.

“Ah, Professor,” he said, “it seems that you still do not quite grasp my situation.”

When Byleth said nothing, Dimitri crooked his neck and bent, seizing her mouth with his own. The professor took a step back as he tasted her, his tongue forceful against her own. But Dimitri held fast and closed the space between them, nearly smothering her.

“D-Dima-,” she choked out as he ducked away from her to suck in a breath, “that’s-,”

But her sentence died on her tongue as Dimitri’s hand shifted from the back of her neck to the side, carefully holding Byleth steady as his mouth trailed down her jaw and he planted a wet kiss to her throat.

The professor tensed at the contact, still feeling uneasy; Dimitri had seemed upset earlier when she’d mentioned his past self. Even if he was tame at the moment-,

The fallen prince bit down hard into the bruised skin at Byleth’s neck and she let out a hiss of pain, startled. As she was wondering if he’d broken the skin, Dimitri lapped at the wound and it stung.

“I’m bleeding-,” Byleth mumbled, lifting a hand slowly as a spell took shape in her palm.

“Don’t heal it,” said Dimitri gruffly.

The professor snorted, “What?”

“Don’t heal it,” he repeated, “so that every time you feel a sting of pain from it, you’ll remember not to mention the boy I used to be, Professor.”

For a long moment, Byleth considered disobeying him; why did it matter if she mentioned the old Dimitri? It would be best for him to return to that self-,

Would it? His calm demeanour had cracked as easily as the Flame Emperor’s mask beneath his heel when he’d learnt the truth. Would going back to how things were-, was that really the best option?

“Alright,” said Byleth finally.

Dimitri seemed satisfied with that response and he stalked past her in the direction of his dormitory.

“Keep up now, Professor,” he said without a backwards glance.

Byleth huffed in annoyance but hurried to match his pace; at least he seemed to be reacting to her. He was putting in some effort now, unlike earlier. That was-, progress. Of some sort, at least.

***

Dimitri had already undone the buttons of his borrowed blouse when Byleth entered his room. He turned and took the harvest basket from her, setting it on the desk before turning back to her.

“Take those off,” he said, and his voice was rough.

Byleth blinked.

“I don’t mind wearing them-,”

“I want you, Professor.”

Byleth blinked again.

And then, when the fallen prince’s words finally registered, she dropped her gaze to her uniform. Perhaps he’d taken what she’d said earlier to heart; Dimitri seemed intent on having his way with her here and now. Maybe he was trying to make amends for his previous behaviour.

Byleth wasn’t quite sure how having sex was going to improve their circumstance. But, she reminded herself, if Dimitri had found in her an outlet, that was alright. Was it not her duty as his professor? Surely. She’d done the same with Jeralt, hadn’t she? Each time she’d felt riled she’d simply had it out with him, an exchange of blows until the pain inside had softened. This was-, this was the same, surely.

“If you continue to stand there,” said Dimitri, bringing her back to the present, “I will simply have you as you are. I wouldn’t mind a further desecration of the Academy.”

Dimitri approached her and gripped the meat of her thigh overtop her dark skirt. Byleth ignored his comment in favour of undoing the buttons of her blouse and the fallen prince simply growled quietly.

“Now what-?” she wondered to herself, “Am I not going quickly enough to satisfy you?”

“No,” said Dimitri, “you’re not.”

And he lifted her effortlessly before all but dropping her onto the bed. Before Byleth could snap that that wasn’t exactly the most appropriate manoeuvre, Dimitri yanked her panties down and shoved her legs apart.

He bent to inspect the place between, his lips upturned in the beginning of a dark smile.

“You’re already wet for me, Professor,” he acknowledged.

Byleth’s leg twitched and her panties shifted back and forth at her left ankle.

“I want to taste you again,” the fallen prince admitted, “and have you fuck yourself upon my tongue. But it seems that will not please you as much as a turn on my cock will. Is that correct?”

When the professor did not answer, Dimitri tipped his head to the side and stared at her.

“Professor. Am I correct in assuming you want this beast to spill his seed inside you?”

Byleth let out a slow exhale in an attempt to steady herself; there was no point in getting riled up over these blunt statements. Even if they were so uncharacteristically Dimitri.

“Yes,” she said finally, lifting her gaze to the fallen prince’s face, “that’s correct.”

Dimitri wasted no time crooking two fingers up and into the professor’s slick pussy and Byleth winced at the sudden attention; his impatience would be the death of both of them at this rate.

“Dimitri-, that’s-, you must be gentle, now.”

“Ah, Professor,” he murmured, and he ducked to brush his lips over the wound at her neck, “your demands never cease. You and the dead have that in common, I suppose.”

“Don’t bring them into this,” said Byleth stoutly.

The fallen prince curled his fingers in her again and she gasped beneath him; it was hard to keep her authoritative tone when Dimitri held all the power.

“I cannot help that your body is so eager for mine,” he said, “that you so desire the beast as you do.”

“I desire _you_,” Byleth corrected breathlessly.

Dimitri hummed noncommittally and his pace eased as he thought over her words.

“There’s no difference.”

“There is,” the professor said, “I want _you_, Dimitri.”

The fallen prince regarded Byleth beneath him for a long moment. The professor watched him right back.

“You say you want me, Professor?”

Byleth nodded wordlessly as Dimitri pulled his fingers from her in favour of slicking up his cock and lining himself up with her entrance.

“And… back then?” he asked.

And his voice was so quiet—perhaps even _fragile_—that Byleth wondered if she’d simply imagined it.

“At the Goddess Tower,” he added.

The professor blinked. Did he-, was he actually thinking about what they’d said five years ago-?

But, she reasoned, perhaps it was not so strange. Dimitri had sequestered himself away at Garreg Mach with only the ghosts to keep him company; there was no way he could’ve avoided the bombardment of memories with each step.

And, of course, Byleth couldn’t help but wonder how often he’d dwelt upon those memories. Now, in bed, she was beginning to think Dimitri had spent a fair bit of time thinking back to those days.

“I-, yes,” she said softly.

And Byleth couldn’t look at him. 

Admitting to Dimitri—and to herself—that she’d held a love for him in her heart and let it bloom without a word—it made her think that somewhere down the line, she had failed her student in a major way.

“Yes?” Dimitri echoed, and there was something in his tone that Byleth didn’t like, “You-,”

He trailed off and the professor finally lifted her gaze to his face. Dimitri’s expression was wounded.

“I cannot go back,” he murmured, “I cannot return to those days again. Now that I know who is responsible… now that I _know_…”

“I know, Dimitri. I know.”

“Even if it is unbefitting, I cannot help that I am driven by vengeance, Professor. Judgment must come to pass. And I will use everything and every_one _at my disposal to assure that. Even you, Byleth.”

The professor closed her eyes and nodded.

“I understand. Things will never be the same; we can’t go back to how they were. I know that you won’t stop until the scale has been balanced.”

“It is high-time,” Dimitri agreed, “and yet, Professor, for just a moment, your voice drowns out all others.”

“Then will you hear me ask something very selfish of you, Dimitri?”

The fallen prince said nothing. Byleth took it as an offer to continue.

“For just this one evening,” she breathed, “could we pretend?”

Dimitri dropped his gaze and Byleth couldn’t help but sigh, knowing his words before he even opened his mouth.

“You ask too much of me, Professor.”

“Yes, and you must surely see now that you are not the only one between us who is driven by greed.”

Dimitri sighed again and squeezed Byleth’s thighs, his blunt nails digging uncomfortably into her skin.

“Regardless, I am not keen on being wounded by your words again,” he said, more to himself than to Byleth, “and to be called a coward by anyone—let alone you, my beloved Professor—certainly leaves a poor taste on this beast’s tongue.”

Byleth opened her mouth to argue, to correct him, but Dimitri captured her lips with his own. The professor tensed at the contact, melting beneath the slow sweep of Dimitri’s tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Professor-,” he murmured against her mouth, “I will take you as you’ve asked. But you would do well to remember my warning: I _will _put you in pain. Not only now, but surely countless more times. As long as you and I are together, as long as that _woman _walks upon this world, I cannot claim my freedom. And I cannot be the gentle lover you must’ve once imagined me to be.”

“Yes,” Byleth whispered, “I know. But perhaps, in time-,”

“Enough,” said Dimitri, and his voice was rough between them, “I haven’t the luxury for such thoughts.”

“I-,”

The fallen prince slotted himself further between Byleth’s legs and she sucked in a shallow breath as he pinned one of her hips down.

“Tell me,” he breathed, “you must warn me so that this beast doesn’t break you, Professor. Not now, not yet. Perhaps not _ever_. You are a valuable asset, you know. And not just because you’re the Ashen Demon. Perhaps it’s that you are my beloved professor. And now that you’ve returned to me, I’m not quite ready to let you go.”

“Dima-,”

“Ah, _Professor_. Watch that tongue, lest this pleasure turn punishing. And we both know you wouldn’t like that.”

Byleth opened her mouth to reply but her words were lost in a soundless gasp as Dimitri pressed into her, parting her pussy upon his cock.

“Relax now, Professor,” the fallen prince bit out, “loosen up, there’s no need to fear. I was once one of your beloved students, you know.”

“Y-yes-,” Byleth agreed, “my-, special favourite.”

This too, was the wrong thing to say. Dimitri bucked up into Byleth, the motion too rough too soon. The professor clicked her tongue and Dimitri hummed, disapproving.

“Saying such things even in knowing the effort I put in to avoid breaking you, Professor,” the fallen prince murmured, “you haven’t the right to complain if you find this pace too brutal.”

Byleth scoffed at him reflexively and to her surprise, Dimitri just let a grin stretch across his face in response. He took the professor by the hips and yanked her towards himself, narrowing the space between them and forcing Byleth to take more of his cock.

“_Dima-, _please, that’s much too-,”

“Hush, Professor,” the fallen prince hissed, “are you not the one who demanded this of me? So unsatisfied were you with a climax upon my tongue, that you had to send this beast into a frenzy!”

Byleth gasped again as Dimitri made his first earnest thrust into her.

“You’re more vocal,” the fallen prince acknowledged quietly, “than before.”

“Wh-,”

Dimitri rutted into her again and Byleth choked on the rest of her sentence, hands clenching in the sheets.

“I like it.”

The professor blinked; she hadn’t expected him to be so open about such a thing, especially given-, all that had happened. Dimitri finally set a slow pace, although he seemed determined to make Byleth pay for her earlier comments, if his brutally deep movements were any indication.

“Dimitri-,”

“Ah, not yet, Professor,” the fallen prince said, drawing away from her.

When he left only the swollen head of his cock within her, Byleth groaned in exasperation. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, determined to force him into her at a better angle; or to at least get a bit of much-needed friction.

“Dimitri, I-,”

The fallen prince bent, catching Byleth’s hands in his own. He entangled his fingers between hers before shoving himself back into her pussy. The professor let out a startled cry and Dimitri smothered the sound with his mouth, pinning Byleth completely beneath him.

She squirmed and the fallen prince smiled against her lips, resuming his earlier pace. Byleth dug her fingernails into the skin at Dimitri’s knuckles and he bit her lip in amused retaliation.

“_Dimitri_-,” she gasped, “I’m-,”

The fallen prince ducked to run his tongue along the wound at Byleth’s neck and she trembled under him.

“I can’t-,”

“Cum then-!” Dimitri hissed.

And his breath was so hot against the shell of the professor’s ear, his pace so brutally deep as the ridges of his cock slotted so _perfectly_ against Byleth’s clit-,

And the professor came with a strangled sob, her pussy spasming around Dimitri as he fucked her through her orgasm. Just as Byleth was coming down from her pleasure high, the fallen prince sheathed himself in her entirely, burying himself down to his hilt as he came inside her with a low groan.

Byleth gasped again as Dimitri bit down at her shoulder, digging his blunt teeth into her skin as he rode out his orgasm above her.

The professor was still laying prone beneath Dimitri when he’d finally regained himself. She regarded him breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the final streaks of pleasure slipped through her bloodstream.

The fallen prince’s gaze drifted down to the wound at Byleth’s neck and he carefully traced the pads of his fingers across it. The professor shivered at his touch.

Dimitri took one of her hands and lifted it to her neck.

“_Heal_.”

A dim glow radiated from between Byleth’s fingers and the warmth of it surged up Dimitri’s arm, clearing up persistent bruises that had littered his skin for weeks.

“Heal _your _wound,” the fallen prince clarified gruffly.

Byleth shook her head.

“You told me not to.”

“Yes,” agreed Dimitri, “and now I am telling you to heal it. Do so. For if you do not…”

He trailed off and bent, squeezing Byleth’s hand in his own as he stuck out his tongue and dragged it across the professor’s wound. She gasped at the reverence in the motion.

“Ah, Professor,” Dimitri warned, “if you make another sound like that, I may have to desecrate the desk with your body next.”

He pulled back and glanced towards the window. There was more work to be done and yet they’d used up all their light hours for-,

“Or perhaps you would prefer to be pressed right up against the window. You could imagine your precious little students in the courtyard below, if it so pleases you, completely ignorant of your own depraved desires and the fulfilment of such overhead.”

“Dimitri-,”

“Ah, but you and I could always return to the Cathedral, if that is better suited to your taste. I’ve spent countless hours on my knees before the Goddess. It only stands to reason that she should do the same for _me_.”

“Dimitri. Enough,” said Byleth.

What had gotten into him? They’d finally made love—acted upon their feelings, though perhaps a bit late, who could say?—and yet it felt as though Dimitri had only drifted further from her.

Byleth frowned. The fallen prince sighed and drew back, getting to a stand. He made to collect his garments when the professor caught his hand.

“Release me, Professor.”

“Stay.”

Dimitri glanced at her over his shoulder. Byleth sat up and threaded her fingers between his.

“It’s alright,” she said, “we can make our rounds of the campus when the sun rises again. For tonight, settle down with me.”

“I cannot stay here. Not in this room. Not with these memories.”

Dimitri’s gaze drifted and Byleth got the feeling he was seeing something—or perhaps some_one_—that wasn’t there.

The ghosts were back, then.

“Then we’ll go to my chamber,” said Byleth, offering her other hand.

Dimitri turned his attention back upon her.

“Your stubbornness-,”

“Lay with me,” interrupted the professor, squeezing his hand.

Dimitri frowned and opened his mouth to deny her.

“You’ve warmed me up inside,” Byleth murmured, and she dropped her gaze to preserve an ounce of pride, “and yet, still I am cold. Warm me up.”

The fallen prince blinked as her words registered. But he sighed again and bowed his head in surrender.

“We will scout the outskirts tomorrow,” he promised.

Byleth nodded and she released Dimitri as he turned to gather up his cloak and furs. He returned to her and the professor burrowed beneath his thick garb, pressing herself up against his broad chest.

She traced her fingertips across the scars that littered his skin and Dimitri only let out a huff of breath; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Byleth tucked her head beneath his chin.

“I don’t think I’m all back yet,” she murmured.

Dimitri hummed, minutely confused by her comment.

“The Goddess had to put me back together after I-, after the ravine,” said Byleth, “but I don’t think she’s finished, even now.”

The fallen prince pulled back to gaze down at her. There was a flicker of rising panic in his eye; he was worried he’d broken her, despite everything.

“It’s not you,” Byleth reassured quietly, “so don’t look so frightened. That expression really doesn’t suit you, Dima.”

Dimitri had nothing to say to that.

“When I was younger, we took some jobs up in Faerghus,” said the professor, “and we never had problems with the cold.”

“And yet now, it seems you wouldn’t last a day beneath the chill,” murmured Dimitri.

“Not without you, no,” agreed Byleth.

The fallen prince snorted in disagreement. Byleth only closed her eyes and embraced him, tracing meaningless symbols across the wide burn mark in the centre of Dimitri’s back.

“Professor,” he said, and his voice was rough above her.

“Yes?”

“Do not heal my wounds and do not smooth my scars with your magic.”

When Byleth attempted to reel back, seeking clarification, Dimitri’s grip tightened around her. She relented, relaxing against him. It was only then that the fallen prince sighed into her hair.

“They serve as important reminders. I worry-, that perhaps I would find myself suddenly quite aimless without them.”

Byleth pressed a slow kiss to the mark over his heart.

“I see. Then-, let me make up a salve for you tomorrow morning,” she said stoutly, “to ease the oldest pains.”

Dimitri’s eye widened and his breath caught in his throat.

Had anyone ever-,

“If that’s-, acceptable to you, of course,” said Byleth quickly, wondering if she’d overstepped.

“It. Yes,” Dimitri said, and his voice trembled.

The professor made no comment and he was grateful.

“I would-, appreciate that, Professor. You-, have my-, gratitude.”

Byleth smiled against his skin.

There it was, at last: the glory of progress.

**Author's Note:**

> as much as i love post timeskip dima,,,, pre-time skip dimitri has so much potential,,,, ah,,, if my exams go well maybe i can treat myself to a bit of self-indulgence,,,, regardless, thanks for the read! chat with me below or tweet me @actualcrowbeau <3 much love!


End file.
